Home continued
by Zabet
Summary: CH 4 now up. Takes place directly following the events of “Home”...screw the Augments! Archer Trip friendship, [minor] Trip T’Pol romance.
1. Chapter One

**Title: **Home continued

**Rating:** PG-13. Why? -shrug- I don't know. Suicidal angst, major alcoholic intake, offensive cursing, and whatnot. Maybe even some -gasp- sex! ...Yeah, right. I'm smutly challenged.

**Summary:** Takes place directly following the events of "Home"...screw the Augments! A/Tu friendship, Tu/T'P romance.

**Major Characters:** Jon, Trip

**Disclaimer:** Blah blah bitty blah. Paramount, etc. I'd also like to take this moment to lament over the introduction of Erika Hernandez. Damn that woman. Jon is _mine_, you hear me? _Mine_.

**Author's Note:** I know what you're asking yourself. If I've got so many other stories going, why am I writing a new one instead of updating those? I honestly don't know. I've been so busy with college...but this one was just begging to be written. God, Jon is so hot.

**Chapter One**

Captain Jonathan Archer of the NX-01 Enterprise walked into his quarters, letting out a deep breath.

_What a day_, he thought. _Having a civil conversation with Ambassador Pointy...Shaking his hand ...It's more than a man can handle._ Jonathan took a second to pay Porthos some attention before stripping off his uniform and stepping into the bathroom. He turned on the shower and let the water warm up. _And now I've got another two weeks vacation to look forward to._ Sighing, Jon stepped into the shower stall, allowing the steaming hot water to cascade down his back, soothing the taught muscles. He closed his eyes for a second and focused solely on the feel of the water against his skin. _God, I wish I had a bath tub..._

It had been such an overwhelming week. The attention that Enterprise had been paid after 'saving the world', as everyone said, was too much for Jon. Escaping to the mountains was a refreshing change, as was the companionship of one Captain Erika Hernandez. _Erika..._ Jon couldn't help but smile at the memory of her leaning over to him. _"What are you doing?"_ He chuckled to himself at his own naïveté. Spending a year in the Delphic Expanse had obviously had more than one adverse effect on him.

Jon turned off the shower and stepped out, grabbing a towel and wrapping himself in it on the way. He wondered if it was such a good idea to start this...whatever it was, with Erika. He'd obviously suffered more than the visible burn on the side of his face from his dealings with the Xindi. There were the scars that weren't so easily seen; scars that Erika had only briefly glimpsed during their week mountain-climbing. They weren't going to go away overnight, Jon knew. But did Erika realize this? Shaking his head, Jon pulled on his pajamas. The entire crew of Enterprise was more than just slightly damaged, and Jon wasn't sure if it was smart for him or fair to Erika to seek solace in her embrace. Was it right to bring her down? _At least Trip and T'Pol are in the same boat._

Jon sat on the side of his bed, Porthos jumping up and casually draping himself over his master's legs. Jon stared blankly out at the Earth orbiting below, thinking. He could still feel his brain working painfully to comprehend the relationship that was Trip and T'Pol. Obviously there had been more than neuro-pressure going on during those late night rendezvous' in T'Pol's quarters, but when had it crossed the line of friendship? And more importantly, why hadn't he, Trip's best friend, noticed the difference? And why hadn't Trip told him about it? The shock at seeing Lorian, the potential future son of Trip and T'Pol, had thrown Jon into a fit of jealousy. He knew it was unwarranted – he'd never given Trip any indication that he felt anything more for T'Pol, embarrassed with himself that he'd ever even _had_ those feelings. As time went on, however, the jealous feelings had faded, leaving behind only a puzzling curiosity. He could only hope that someday – hopefully someday soon, now that Earth was safe from the Xindi threat – he and Trip could talk about it, and everything that had happened, like the best friends that they had been. Jon knew that he was a changed man after what he thought of as the "Xindi Experience", and not all that change was for the better. But he also knew that Trip – and even T'Pol – had undergone many such changes as well, and as friends, the time would come when they would be forced to deal with those changes – _together_.

But obviously, such a discussion was not going to happen for at least another two weeks. In what had been a great surprise to Jon, T'Pol and taken Trip to her home on Vulcan for the three week vacation the Enterprise crew had been given. While he'd been happy for his friend - knowing that Trip no longer had a home town, and that it would be a great stride in his relationship with T'Pol to visit _her_ home – Jon couldn't help wondering what on earth he was going to do with two weeks to himself without his best friend around. Sure, he could spend time with Erika, but he still had his doubts about her, and wanted to take things slowly. And after all, they had just spent an entire week alone together, hadn't they?

His train of thought was broken by the chirp of the com panel at his door. "Sorry, pal," he said to Porthos, who gave an annoyed grunt and slipped off his master's lap. Jon walked over to the panel and opened a channel.

"Archer here."

"Captain," said the nervous young Ensign who Starfleet had assigned to fill in for Hoshi. "We've just received word from the surface that Commander Tucker is coming back aboard. I, uh, thought you ought to know."

Jon glanced curiously at the com panel. Trip was coming back aboard? Why wasn't he still on Vulcan? "Is T'Pol with him?"

"E-E-Errr..." stuttered the Ensign, and Jon could hear his fingers flying over the com console, "No, sir, I don't believe so, sir, I'm sure the transmission said just the Commander, sir."

"Thank you, Ensign. Archer out."

Jon continued to stare at the com panel. This was not good. Trip rarely, if ever, turned down leave – and especially after a strenuous mission, such as the one they had been on. And why wasn't T'Pol with him? These questions, and more, were racing through Jon's head at a mile a minute when Porthos walked over and sat on his foot. Glancing down at his dog, Jon laughed at the tired and frustrated look on his face. It was still a bit early to be going to bed, but the look on the dog's face reflected his own.

"Fine, Porthos, fine. But you and I are going to have a talk with Trip tomorrow, no matter what. Understand?"

Porthos just wagged his tail happily and jumped up on the bed. Jon smiled at his friend and shut the lights off.

* * *

BEEP. 

Jon rolled over in bed, glancing over at his digital clock. The display read 12:30 am. _Ugh..._

BEEP.

Moaning and tossing the covers off, Jon trudged half-consciously towards the door. He hit the light and opened the door.

Trip was standing there, nervously looking at his feet. He looked up a second after the door opened, eyes widening at his Captain's pajama-clad state.

"You were sleepin'," he said guiltily, taking a step backwards.

Jon put a hand on the engineer's shoulder, preventing him from moving away any farther. "I've always got time for a friend," he said, looking concerned. Trip didn't smile, but gave the Captain a grateful look.

"Can I come in?" he asked cautiously.

"Of course." Jon moved aside, allowing Trip entry into his quarters. The door whooshed shut behind him. "You look like hell," Jon said quietly, walking past his friend and sitting on the edge of his bed. Trip just crouched down and scratched an excited Porthos behind the ears, not saying a word. Awkward silence prevailed. Jon took a deep breath, trying to think of the right thing to say, the thing that wouldn't send Trip running. Their friendship had been so strained over the past year, and Jon desperately did not want to lose it. "...Why are you here?"

Trip let out a bitter laugh, looking at Jon with pained eyes. "Y'know, Cap'n, I haven't got a sweet clue." He looked down again, seemingly thinking hard about what to say next. "I miss you."

Jon just stared at him for a second. "That's not why you're here," he said matter-of-factly.

"True," Trip said, nodding his head, "But I think it needed to be said."

Jon sighed unhappily, getting off his bed and sitting on the floor in front of Trip. "I'm sorry I haven't been there for you," he whispered, emotions flooding into his voice. Trip chuckled.

"Funny, Cap'n – I was about to say the same thing." Their eyes met, and Jon uncharacteristically leaned forward and engulfed his best friend in a tight hug. To his surprise, Trip immediately returned it. "I've missed this so much, Jon."

They pulled away, and sat in contented silence for a long time, Trip petting Porthos. They were at ease with each other for the first time in many months, much to their relief. Jon broke the silence after awhile, looking intently at Trip. "Do you want to talk about it now?" he asked cautiously, both of them clearly knowing what "it" was.

Trip raised his head, shaking his head. "I don't think I can right now," he whispered, almost embarrassed.

Jon got up and opened up a drawer at the end of his bed. Trip stood up, giving his Captain a curious look. Jon pulled out a blanket, a pillow, and a small cot, handing them to Trip. The engineer smiled, taking them from Jon. He arranged himself on the floor, Porthos curling up at his feet. Jon walked over to the wall panel.

"Thank you, Jon."

"Anytime, Trip. Goodnight."

He hit the light.

* * *

TBC, don't worry. ...But not if you don't R/R! 


	2. Chapter Two

A/N: Oh my. -wipes away tears- Though I write on because I love writing, I always forget how great it is to check your e-mail after only a day, and find that you've got 6 positive reviews. Thank you guys so much. For anyone who hasn't reviewed yet, I forget to mention that any flames will be promptly flamed. Thanks.

**Chapter Two**

Jon smiled as he watched Trip slowly stir to consciousness on the floor. He had woken up at 0730 because he'd gone to bed so early, and had decided to go to the mess hall and bring breakfast back rather than wake us friend who obviously needed his rest. So, after taking a quick shower and leaving Porthos to keep an eye on Trip, Jon had made the short trek to the mess hall and foraged for some food. He'd brought back toast, bacon, eggs, orange juice...and two slices of key lime pie. Not exactly 'breakfast food', Jon knew, but what could it hurt?

"I smell breakfast," the engineer mumbled, face down in his pillow. Jon chuckled and placed the two food trays on his desk.

"You sure do," he said, sitting on his bed. "And you'd better appreciate it, too. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get the door open with both hands full of food?"

Trip sat up, smiling at the look of indignation on his Captain's face. "Ah, I see ya still haven't trained Porthos to open the door for ya." Trip grinned cheekily as Jon gave him a mock-annoyed look and passed him a tray of food. The engineer immediately started shoveling the eggs into his mouth, making Jon laugh.

"I bet the Vulcan food you've been eating for the past week wasn't that filling, huh?"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Jon began kicking himself mentally. Mentioning Vulcan probably wasn't the best breakfast conversation, considering that Jon believed T'Pol to be the cause of Trip's anguish. Trying to cover his slip up, (though he did notice Trip tense a little at the mention of Vulcan), Jon said, "Try the pie. Chef made it fresh this morning."

"Dat doeshn't luhk lihke bwekfasht," Trip said thickly through a mouthful of eggs.

Jon bit back a remark on Trip's eating habits, and instead said, "I'm the Captain, and I get to say what looks like breakfast. Is that clear, Commander?" Jon gave Trip his most serious 'Captain face'. Trip swallowed and saluted.

"Aye aye, sir!"

They ate the rest of their meal in silence, but Jon knew that he'd said the wrong thing in mentioning Vulcan. It was clear to Jon that his friend was already distancing himself, and he wasn't sure what he could do to stop it. However, he knew that he could not allow his friend to keep whatever was bothering him bottled up inside. As they piled their trays together, Jon put his hand on Trip's arm and turned him around, intently forcing Trip to maintain eye contact with him.

"Trip," he said cautiously, not sure how to say this in any gentle matter. Trip tried to pull away, but Jon held fast. He took a deep breath. "What happened on Vulcan, Trip?"

He felt, rather than saw, Trip's muscles tense up, and the look in his eyes was that of pure despair. It broke Jon's heart to see Trip in so much pain, but it would be worse if he kept this to himself. All the color drained from Trip's face, and he started to tremble slightly.

"She got married," he croaked out, barely above a whisper. Jon released his arm in shock.

"What??"

"She shamed her mother by stayin' on Enterprise. Her mother lost her job. They blackmailed her into marrying the guy she'd been engaged to so that her family wouldn't be dishonored."

A single tear had leaked down Trip's cheek. Jon took a step back, running a hand through his hair.

"I don't believe it." The anger swelled in him, and he fought to remain calm. Though he should have known that a race with a superiority complex as big as that of the Vulcans would do such a thing, he had a difficult time associating his past conception of the Vulcans with the way he saw them after spending so much time with T'Pol, and after the conversation he'd had with Soval only the day before.

Jon looked back up at Trip, who looked as though the world had ended. "I'm in love with her, Jon," he whispered. "I'm so in love with her, and I couldn't tell her. I couldn't put that on her, not when she was being forced..."

Jon reached forward for his friend, but Trip pulled back, still pale. Jon nearly cried aloud when he saw the anguish in Trip's eyes disappear behind a wall of pure ice. Nothing he could have said mattered; for now, he'd lost Trip again. "Thanks for breakfast, Cap'n. I gotta go...I gotta go work on the engines. Gotta oversee the modifications-"

Trip's words were cut off as the door to Jon's quarters slid shut behind him. Jon stared blankly at the space his chief engineer had occupied only seconds ago, painfully aware that his friend had called him 'Captain', not 'Jon'. He'd lost him. After the small progress they'd made the night before, despite his caution, he had lost Trip again. He slumped down to the floor, feeling more defeated than the Xindi had ever made him feel. He knew he had let Trip down before – the cogenitor, and Sim. Trip suffered through all that, and the loss of his sister...would he recover from the loss of the woman he was in love with?

* * *

"Good day, Captain!" Phlox said merrily as Jon walked into sickbay later that day. Porthos trotted behind him, bounding towards the Denobulan happily. "And you, of course, my furry friend." The Doctor reached into a container on the shelf in front of him and pulled out a dog bone, tossing it to the dog. Porthos jumped and caught it in mid air, and was content to sit at the Doctor's feet and chew. "What can I do for you today, Captain?" 

"Well, Doctor..." Jon hesitated. He still wasn't sure that talking to Phlox about Trip was the best of ideas, but he knew that he needed someone – a professional, but preferably a friend – to get advice from. "I was hoping to utilize your abilities as a doctor of the mind today, rather than a doctor of the body."

"Ahh," said Phlox, placing the padd he'd been using down on the counter and turning to face the Captain. "I've been expecting something like this for a while now."

Jon was confused. "You have?"

"Well, of course, Captain. We've all been through a terrible ordeal over the past year, and it has put great pressure on you most of all. I'm glad that you've decided to-"

"Actually, Doc, I've come to ask you some advice about a...well, a good friend of mine."

The Doctor raises an eyebrow, but then smiled knowingly. "Of course, Captain. A 'friend' of yours. Tell me – what seems to be the trouble with your, er, 'friend'."

Jon sighed. This obviously wasn't going to be as easy as he'd hoped. "Doctor, is it safe for me to assume that nothing I say will go beyond sickbay?"

"Certainly, Captain, certainly! Doctor-patient confidentiality, of course. It would be against my morals as a doctor, as well as your friend, to do such a thing!"

Jon relaxed at this. "Good. Then you should know that I am referring to Commander Tucker, not myself."

Phlox looked slightly disappointed. "Oh," he said. "Well, go on then. What seems to be the trouble?"

"Well," Jon started cautiously, "as you know, the past year as brought several...difficulties?...for Trip."

"I assume you mean the incident with the cogenitor, the loss of his sister...perhaps even the creation of Sim?"

"All of the above," Jon confirmed. "As well as the fact that the tight friendship we had in the past has been strained over the past year, due to my dedication to this mission." Jon paused, but Phlox just nodded thoughtfully, so he continued. "I had thought that his relationship with T'Pol – you _do_ know about Trip and T'Pol, don't you?"

The Doctor waved a hand dismissively. "Yes, yes, T'Pol has asked for my advice on numerous occasions. Continue."

"Well, I thought that their relationship would help them _both_ deal with the hardships they've experienced. However, I learned some disturbing news this morning."

"What sort of disturbing news?" the Doctor asked curiously.

"Well, it started off last night when I got word from the bridge that Trip was coming back aboard."

The Doctor interrupted him before he could go any further. "Wasn't Commander Tucker on leave to Vulcan with T'Pol?"

"_Yes_," Jon said emphatically, pacing. "That's why I found it so curious. Trip showed up at my quarters late last night wanting to talk, and we had a bit of a heart-to-heart."

"Well, that's wonderful news, Captain! I was afraid that both yourself and Commander Tucker would have difficulties opening up to others after recent events."

"Er, right," said Archer uncomfortably, shifting from foot to foot. "Anyway, I knew that something was wrong right away, but Trip was reluctant to talk about it. I said it was fine, and he spent the night in my quarters-" Phlox's eyebrows went up to his hairline, "-on a cot on the floor," Jon finished pointedly. The look of shock left the Doctor's face. "I asked him about it this morning, though, because I knew it wouldn't do him good to keep it in..." Jon stopped pacing and looked the doctor in the eye. "Did I do the right thing, Phlox?"

"Well, Captain, that depends on what it was you found out."

"Oh, right," Jon said, pacing once again. "Trip said that...that T'Pol was blackmailed into getting married, and that he was in love with her, but he didn't tell her."

The Doctor's face once again conveyed shock. "Oh dear..."

"And as soon as he told me," Jon went on, "He made an excuse to leave. I could see the emotional walls go up, and I was powerless to stop it! I don't know what to do. I can't lose Trip again, Phlox. I _can't_. He's my best friend."

"Captain," said the Doctor seriously, standing in front of Jon and bringing his pacing to a halt, "I believe it would be-"

"ENGINEERING TO SICKBAY!"

The Doctor immediately went over to the com panel. "This is Phlox."

"DOCTOR!" a voice shouted over the sounds of explosions and sparks. "WE NEED A MED TEAM IN ENGINEERING IMMEDIATELY! WE'VE GOT WOUNDED! COMMANDER TUCKER IS DOWN!"

"I'm on my way," Phlox said, closing the channel and calling the medical staff to Engineering. Jon was shaking his head in denial and anger while Phlox quickly grabbed his med kit.

"No!" Jon said angrily. "NO. I can't do this again. I _can't_!!"

"Captain," Phlox said calmly, placing his hands on Jon's shoulders. "Please return Porthos to your quarters. I can't afford to have him underfoot if I've got critically wounded."

_Critically wounded._

Jon swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded, fear in his eyes. The Doctor gave him a sympathetic look. "You may return to sickbay if you wish, but please keep out of the way." Jon nodded gratefully, and quickly grabbed a shocked Porthos, running towards his quarters as fast as he could.

_God, not Trip. Not again._

* * *

A/N: Remember – if you want more, you've got to review! That's my motivation :) 


	3. Chapter Three

A/N: This has got to be the fastest I've ever written/updated a story. You guys really make me want to write :) And I'm JennaTripped's hero! -blushes profusely-

**Chapter Three**

Rather than returning to sickbay to wait for Phlox to return, which could conceivably take a while, Jon opted to run as fast as humanly possible for engineering (Porthos has been quite shocked when his master had slowed down, opened the door, and literally tossed him in, barely taking the time to stop). Jon was panting hard when he arrived five minutes later, but was shocked at the scene before him. Before even entering engineering, he could see the damage – one of the bulkheads in the corridor was missing, revealing a large mess of sparks and wires. Beyond that, Jon could _see_ engineering – through the wall.

He entered engineering cautiously. The med team had quickly spread around, treating the wounded. Phlox was kneeling over a young Ensign who was holding her leg with both hands, a look of intense pain on her face. The limb was broken on the shinbone, sticking out an incredibly unnatural angle, and blood was pouring down her leg.

Jon frantically looked around engineering, searching for his friend. "Phlox," he said, kneeling next to the doctor, "Where is Trip?"

Phlox continued to work diligently on the Ensign's leg. "Several crewmen are with him over there," he said, motioning with his hand towards the back of engineering. "I'm sorry, Captain, but this woman is bleeding to death-"

"Yes, of course," Jon said, rushing to where his friend should be. He saw several crewmen and a medic kneeled around someone on the floor in the corner. Biting back his fear, he forced his way into the circle.

The medic was working frantically over Trip, who was lying on his back, one arm clutched to his stomach. The right side of his face, his neck, his chest, and part of his shoulder was severely burned. He seemed to be awake, however, his eyes wide with panic. His breath was coming in painfully harsh, wheezing gasps, and he was shaking violently. The part of his skin that wasn't burnt red had a similar color to chalk.

"_Trip_," Jon breathed, pushing the engineers aside so that he could have better access to his friend, but leaving the medic to his work. Trip's eyes turned to his Captain, and Jon saw the raw fear reflected in them. He resisted the urge to put a comforting hand on Trip's shoulder, knowing it would only cause him more pain.

"Jon," Trip wheezed, breaking into a fit of coughing. He turned his head a fraction of an inch and coughed up a mouthful of blood. Jon cringed.

"Shh, Trip, it's okay, Phlox'll be over here any minute now, it'll be fine..."

"Jon...Sorry," Trip whispered brokenly, whimpering. He reached his hand up in an attempt to grab Jon's arm, but his body began to shake even more, and his teeth were chattering. "Sorry I ran." Trip began to cough again, and Jon panicked as his eyes slipped shut. He placed his hand on Trip's good shoulder, shaking him slightly.

"Stay with me, Trip," Jon said in a forced-calm, commanding voice. "It's alright, don't worry. Just stay with me, okay?"

Trip painfully opened his eyes, but nodded his head as much as was possible. He shook again. "So cold."

Jon looked at the medic who was still working speedily over his friend. He looked so young... "Is there anything we can do for him?" he asked. The medic just shook his head.

"No, I need access to the wounds," he said, rushed.

"Make room," came a familiar voice from behind them, and Jon was relieved to see Phlox pushing through the small crowd. "Get him on a stretcher; we need to get him to sickbay. _Now_."

* * *

It was several hours later, and Jon was pacing in the corridor just outside of sickbay. Despite what Phlox had said earlier, he respectfully requested that the Captain stay outside of sickbay, so that he could care for his patients better. Not wanting to put Trip at any more risk, the Captain had remained outside of sickbay, but had not wandered farther than a few meters in any direction from the door. All he could think about was how similar this was to when Trip had been put in a coma. ..._I can't handle a repeat performance of that..._

Jon heard the sound of rushed footsteps, and looked up in time to see Lieutenant Malcolm Reed rush around the corner, dressed in civvies and his NX-01 jacket.

"Captain!" cried the Lieutenant, coming to a stop just short of running into Jon. "Sir, I've been looking everywhere for you. What happened?"

Jon sighed and ran his hands through his hair, leaning against one of the bulkheads. "The best I could gather from the engineering crew is that one of the plasma conduits overloaded, effectively blowing a hole through the side of engineering," Jon explained, sounding significantly calmer than he felt. "Several crewmembers were caught in the blast, or hit by debris."

Malcolm's eyes widened. "Oh dear. Is everyone alright?" he asked cautiously. Jon looked grim.

"A few engineers assigned by Starfleet suffered some minor cuts, bruises, and concussions. Ensign Patterson broke her shinbone and nearly bled to death. And Commander..." Jon tried to go on, but found his voice catching. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Commander Tucker is in critical condition."

The Lieutenant went several shades paler at that. "Is Trip going to be alright?" he asked slowly. Jon sighed, frustrated.

"I don't know! I went down to engineering when I heard, and he was in a bad way. The top right hand side of his body, down to his chest, was severely burned, and he was having trouble breathing. He coughed up blood, and I think he was in shock as well..." Jon trailed off. He really didn't want to think about it; he only wanted to think of what Phlox was doing to help his friend. "Doctor Phlox hasn't been out in nearly three hours, and I'm about-"

Before Jon could finish his sentence, the doors to sickbay opened, revealing Phlox. His expression did not look overly grim, but Jon was still cautious as he and his Armory Officer turned to the Doctor.

"Well?" Jon inquired. "How is he??"

"I'm not certain yet," said Phlox slowly, taking the time to look each man in the eye. "Commander Tucker suffered third degree burns to his face, neck, chest, and shoulder. He had internal bleeding in his lungs, and half a dozen broken ribs. There was a piece of bulkhead embedded in his shoulder. He's also suffering from a severe concussion, and alarmingly, his body is still in shock. I performed emergency surgery to repair the damage to his lungs and removed the metal from his shoulder, and though I did re-set his ribs, they will have to heal naturally. He fell unconscious approximately thirty minutes after we returned to sickbay, and is currently in a coma."

Jon felt the world fall out from under him. He reached out to the nearest thing to keep from falling – Lieutenant Reed. His breath became shallow.

"Coma?" he croaked out. _It's all happening again._

"No, Captain," Phlox said urgently, grabbing Jon away from Malcolm and holding him up himself. "It's not like before. It's reversible; he'll wake up within a week, I guarantee it."

Almost afraid that he'd imagined it, Jon lifted his head to meet the doctor's eyes. They looked optimistic, and Phlox nodded encouragingly at him. "If all goes well, he should be fully recovered within three weeks."

Jon was speechless. He wasn't certain what to do with himself, so he simply continued to stare at the Doctor. "Er...Umm..." he rambled, trying to think. "Oh, uh, are there any risks? What if..." Jon furrowed his brow, still too overwhelmed with relief to articulate himself properly.

"As it stands, my main concern is the fact that the Commander's still in shock. However, I believe it may be the introduction of a large chunk of metal to his shoulder that is causing it. It should stop within the next twenty four to forty eight hours."

Jon nodded in understanding. He smiled faintly at Malcolm, who wore a similar look of relief. "Thank you, Doc," he whispered. "Can we see him?"

"Of course, Captain," said Phlox, sounding much more like his optimistic self than he had for the past several hours. He led the way into sickbay, where several crewmembers were still being treated by the medical staff. He pushed aside a curtain to reveal the unconscious Engineer.

Trip looked like death warmed over. His skin was a sickly grey color, and one side of his face was covered with a thick, moldy looking salve of some sort. He was hooked up to several monitors and machines, and had a few IVs attached to his arm. What shocked Jon the most was the movement. The last time Trip had been in a coma, he'd been dead still. Emphasis on the word _dead_. This was completely different; Jon couldn't imagine something more disturbing. Trip's entire body seemed to be moving. It was a cross between shivering and muscle spasms. It was almost enough to convince Jon that his friend was really awake, save for the fact that his eyes were utterly motionless.

Malcolm stood at the foot of the bed while Jon sat in the chair next to it, grabbing hold of Trip's cold and clammy hand. Even though he knew his friend wasn't aware of him, Jon squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"You're going to be fine, Trip," Jon said firmly, relief washing over him. "Just fine."

* * *

A/N: I know you guys really wanted me to update, but _holy wow_, this was the chapter that wouldn't write! It took me so long...I've got a massively massive headache. But you guys can all make it better if I've got an Inbox flooded with reviews tomorrow morning! –charming smile-


	4. Chapter Four

A/N: Oh goodness! I'm sorry I took so much longer than before to update. I made a series of spam posts, and now things are evening out. Plus I had a series of midterms... It'll be more steady from here on out, but not so frequent. I may do some writing over the weekend, but chances are I won't be able to post until Monday (sorry!). Many thanks to my reviewers.

**Chapter Four**

It had been a little over two days since the explosion in engineering. Since he was officially on leave, Jon had spent most of his time in sickbay with Porthos, sitting next to Trip's bed. He would impatiently wait for his friend to awaken, all the while reading, or staring into space, or holding Trip's hand, or playing with Porthos. He'd go back to his quarters for a few hours rest feeling frustrated, and wishing desperately that Trip would wake up.

The worst part of the past two days was the communiqué he'd sent out shortly after Phlox had given him Trip's prognosis.

* * *

"We're putting you through now, Captain." 

Jon waited, staring blankly at the screen. He still wasn't sure whether this was the right thing to do or not, and he didn't really know what he was going to say. But his heart had told him to do it, and regardless of if it was right or wrong, he knew he had to. He was still angry, but he would use all his willpower to keep it as contained as possible.

"Captain Archer." T'Pol's slightly surprised face – as surprised as T'Pol could look, that is – stared back at him.

"T'Pol." Jon didn't know what to do. This wasn't a good idea. However, it was too late now. Desperately scanning his brain for a direct yet gentle way to word Trip's condition, Jon realized with horror what words were already forming on his lips.

"Congratulations on your marriage," he said coldly. He mentally began kicking himself. Even though it really was what he _wanted _to say, he should have had enough self-restraint not to. T'Pol looked slightly upset – again, as upset as a Vulcan was capable of looking.

"I see Commander Tucker made it back to Enterprise," T'Pol shot back, just as coldly. Jon sighed and looked down.

"Dammit – I'm sorry, T'Pol. That isn't what I should have said. It's just..." He lifted his head, looking T'Pol in the eye. She curiously raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, Captain?" Her voice had softened slightly, leaving her usually inquisitive tone.

"There was an explosion in engineering two days ago." Jon paused, wondering how to go on. Was there any point trying to be delicate with a Vulcan?

"Did the ship sustain much damage?" she asked neutrally. She obviously hadn't clued in yet.

"Well, one of the plasma conduits erupted, and they're currently repairing a hole in one of the bulkheads running parallel to the corridor." _And it burnt half of Trip's face off. And he's in shock, and in a coma. But, hey, Doc says he'll be awake in a week, so no worries._

"Were there any serious injuries?" T'Pol asked, sounding for all the world as though she was inquiring into something as inconsequential as the weather.

"One of our Ensign's almost bled to death, but Phlox fixed her up. And Trip-" T'Pol's face expressed pure, uncensored fear. Jon looked down again. "-is in a coma. Phlox said he should be awake soon, but he sustained some serious injuries... A chunk of metal in his shoulder, broken ribs, a concussion, third degree burns. He's still in shock..." Jon trailed off. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called. I just... I thought you should know."

Jon refused to look up during the awkward silence that ensued.

"Thank you, Jonathan," she said, barely above a whisper. He looked up then, noticing that while her face had once again become reasonably neutral, it had taken on a slightly yellow tinge, and her eyes had a watery look. Jon nodded once.

"Archer out."

* * *

He still wasn't sure that he'd done the right thing, and he didn't know how Trip was going to react. But it had been the 'human' thing to do, – Jon laughed to himself – and he knew T'Pol had appreciated the thought, even if she'd never admit it. 

It was past midnight on the third day when Jon, drifting in and out of sleep, felt a squeeze on his hand. His eyes flew open, and Trip's baby blue's were staring back at him. His body was still wracked with small tremors, and he had an unhealthy grey complexion, but he was awake.

"G'Mornin', Jon," he croaked out, wheezing with the effort involved. Jon smiled broadly at his friend, hiding the worry he once again felt welling up inside of him.

"Good night is more like it – it's nearly 0100!"

Trip gave him a feeble smile, looking around. "How long was I out?" he asked.

"Just a little over two days. Hold on a second, Trip; I'll go get Phlox."

Trip barely managed a nod, and Jon rose to fetch the doctor. When he returned with the Denobulan, Trip was still wheezing, and one of his hands was gently pressed against his ribcage. Phlox immediately went to the engineer's side, giving him a hypo in the neck.

"That should help with the pain, Commander," said Phlox, checking the read-outs on the devices that were connected to Trip. "I'm glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?"

"Like shit," Trip said flatly, trying to lift himself on his elbows. Both Phlox and Jon rushed to his sides, gently forcing him back down.

"Bad idea, Trip," Jon said forcefully, giving his friend the 'Captain' look. "You suffered some rather severe injuries."

"'Rather severe'?" Trip asked uncertainly, looking back and forth between his Captain and his Doctor.

"Internal bleeding, concussion," Phlox began, ticking them off on his fingers. "Cracked ribs, internal bleeding, third degree burns, fragment of bulkhead in your shoulder, coma-"

"Alright, alright!" Trip said, exasperated. "I get it. Lost of injuries. Lots of pain. Be more careful."

"You just can't stay out of trouble, can you?" Jon said seriously. He allowed his face to express the extreme worry he felt for his friend. Trip's eyes softened.

"Hey, it isn't my fault, Cap'n. I have a potentially dangerous work environment. I'll try to be more careful, 'kay?" Jon just nodded. Trip turned to face Phlox. "So, what's the prognosis, Doc? When'll I be back on my feet?" He looked hopeful. Jon felt a pang of sympathy for his friend.

"Well, Commander, that depends somewhat on you, and whether or not you choose to take proper care of your body. My initial prognosis was three weeks in bed-" Trip opened his mouth to protest, but the Doctor held up a hand to silence him, "-but given the fact that you're awake already, I'd say a minimum of a week. Possibly ten days. And there is no point arguing, because I'm sure the Captain will agree with me, and there is very little point in you wasting the energy your body needs to heal itself." Before Trip could say another word, Phlox turned and walked out past the curtain concealing Trip's bed.

Trip huffed; Jon smiled. Trip turned to him and gave him a very serious look.

"Didja tell T'Pol?" he asked, not bothering to beat around the bush. Jon nodded heavily.

"Shortly after Phlox patched you up. At the time, he was saying you were going to be in a coma for maybe a week, with three weeks time to recuperate. I thought she should know; I didn't know if it was the right thing to do, but-"

"It was," Trip said quietly, cutting him off. He was staring at the ceiling. "How'd she take it?" Jon started to open his mouth, but Trip looked him straight in the eye. "Honestly."

Jon sighed, once again taking the seat next to Trip's bed. "Honestly?" he said uncertainly. Trip nodded. "I thought she was going to cry."

Trip turned away, staring off into space. "She's been so...emotional...lately," he said softly, and Jon had the feeling Trip had forgotten he was in the room. Seeming to come back to reality, he turned back to Jon. "You gonna tell her I'm awake?"

Jon nodded his head. "That was next on my list; that and tell Malcolm, Hoshi, and Travis. They've been really worried about you, you know."

"May I? Tell T'Pol, I mean."

Jon stared intently at his friend, trying to read his emotions. "Are you sure you're up for it?"

"Yes. I owe her that much."

"Alright then. I'll get you set up here, and then I'm going to head down to my quarters for a bit. Porthos'll be missing me right about now."

"Wanna bring him up, Jon? I could use a happy puppy visit." The look on Trip's face was so full of youthful innocence – Jon had to laugh.

"One 'happy puppy visit' coming up. But I don't think my back can stand another night in Sickbay, Trip." Jon grinned.

"Er, Jon..." Trip said uncertainly. Jon paused, waiting for his friend to continue. "How...how did she seem? In general, I mean, before you told her..."

Jon took a deep breath, thinking. What would be the best way to word it? Vulcan's weren't exactly known for having the most recognizable emotions. Finally, he decided on, "Distraught." He rested his head in one hand, leaning against the bio bed. "I sort of slipped up at first. I really had no clue what I was doing, calling her. I pissed her off a bit."

Trip raised an eyebrow, mirroring the look T'Pol had given Jon two days before. "Like how?"

"I, uh, congratulated her on her marriage," Jon said carefully.

Trip rolled his eyes. "Couldn't behave yourself for two seconds, could you, Jon? Sometimes I think your foot lives in your mouth."

Jon was relieved that Trip seemed to be handling the situation a bit better than the morning he'd initially told Jon about T'Pol's marriage. However, he could still see the shadows behind his friend's indifferent façade, and he knew that Trip couldn't possibly be over it this quickly.

"You'd better watch it, Commander," Jon said, rising and reaching for the com console. "I have the ability to order you to scrub the floors in Engineering for the next month."

Trip just grinned.

* * *

A/N: UGH. How many times am I going to have to list off Trip's damn injuries? People better just quit asking!   
I win the award for lamest chapter. I didn't really know what to do with it. I hate the ending. It's going to get better, though, I _promise_.   
If you want an update, I'm going to have to have my inbox flooded with reviews tomorrow morning :) _Positive_ reviews! –charming smile- 


End file.
